


Long Night in Donnie's Lab

by thebeingunknown



Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (Bay Movies)
Genre: F/M, Lab Sex, Mutants, Penis In Vagina Sex, Pet Names, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Porn with Feelings, Quiet Sex, Sex, Smut, Top Donatello (TMNT), Turtle Sex (TMNT), Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Vibrators, Weird Biology
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 11:40:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29453208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebeingunknown/pseuds/thebeingunknown
Summary: Donatello and his girlfriend haven't been intimate in a while due to his responsibilities. He knows just how to make it up to her.
Relationships: Donatello (TMNT)/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 34





	Long Night in Donnie's Lab

**Author's Note:**

> While it doesn't go into great detail, if you're uncomfortable with actual turtle dicks, I would suggest not read haha
> 
> I will admit I'm a little nervous about the quality of this as it's the first time I've written this kind of smut, but...yeah it's basically tailored to my fantasy so we'll just pretend it isn't so 😂
> 
> It's not technically an "X Reader" but I purposefully left the girl in this one ambiguous so you could project yourself onto her if you so desired.
> 
> Also, EVERYONE IS 18+ DON'T BE WEIRD ABOUT IT

Coming from Donnie’s lab, music echoed faintly through the lair. It was some of the synth-rock he could often listened to, mixed in with some of the timeless, such as _Metallica or ACDC._ Donnie could be found in his lab at most hours of the day when they weren’t training or on patrol. Work, play, it all happened in his little corner of the lair, which his girlfriend approached, hearing the beat of his music. Purple and blue light from his LEDs bled out into the hall, as his lab did not have a proper door, but rather a thick curtain.

One thing he hated about their home was the lack of privacy. There were no real doors; only improvisations, and they did not block out sound _or_ keep it in.

She came to the entrance and went ahead and opened the curtain, as knocking on solid concrete was useless. There he was hunched over his desk working on something, too distracted to notice her footsteps on account of the radio playing next to him. He hummed along to what was on, his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth as he carefully squirted a blue liquid into a beaker, then began to stir it with a glass stick. The solution began to bubble as it dissolved, but a fine substance fell to the bottom of the glass. He sighed in annoyance, setting the pipette down. Nothing was going quite right that day.

“Too much solute,” he muttered to himself. He scribbled down the record in his notes.

“Is it that riveting?” she suddenly asked him with a smile, putting a hand on his shoulder. He hadn’t noticed her until she said something.

He jumped a little and spun around in his chair, standing up, “Oh, I didn’t know you were here yet, love. Did someone escort you?”

“Raph did,” she replied. She added reassuringly, “Don’t worry, I’m not walking here alone at night.”

Standing up, he disregarded his experiment. “Ah, as a princess _shouldn’t_ ,” he said pointedly, brushing some hair behind her ear. Though, he was joking. Mostly. “Speaking of that…it’s been a while since I treated you like one.” That was true, or at least he felt it was—he _had_ been busy lately with working and training since Foot activity had increased. Their conflicting sleep schedules (what little he had of one) also didn’t help. And he knew that, had been thinking about it, and decided that night, she would have his _undivided attention._

“I think it’s time I did,” he stated. Leaning down to her ear, he whispered lowly, “How does that sound?”

Donnie may have seemed mild outside of combat, but she knew that tone. It was the one that made a tingle run down her spine, the one that showed the man that was _also_ inside him; the pleaser, the one who secretly liked control. Who would have thought.

He stood up to his full height once again, towering over her as always. Before she could even answer, he was already guiding her over to his table, taking it upon himself to manipulate her body. He gently swept everything littering the surface out of the way and enveloped her forearms and wrists in his giant hands. Her back rolled down onto the cold table, causing a shiver to run through her. She breathed out, “It sounds...amazing.” In he events leading up to what she was anticipating, Donnie was almost never overly rough or unrestrained. No, he tended to prefer a slow, methodical approach; he was constantly experimenting with her. He had an eye for detail and seemed to be able to notice _everything_. The things that made her squirm, the things that elicited just the sounds he was looking for. There was never a plateau with him. A large portion creativity he possessed was spent on finding new ways to touch her. And likewise, new things he could _invent_ to touch her with.

“Remember to be quiet, Dove, sound carries here,” he reminded her.

Releasing her arms, he stood over her, his frame blocking out the light behind him. He reached over her and switched an overhead lamp on, which was dimmed to a soft purple glow. He turned it away so it would be out of her eyes. For a moment, he stopped as he loomed over her, watching her closely. There was something utterly sensual for him knowing _he_ was the one administering all that she needed and wanted.

He propped one knee on the table to support himself as he bent down, stealing a deep kiss. His hand held the side of her head. She muffled a light grunt against him, and when he sensed some hunger in her, he pulled away, licking his lip.

“Getting a little impatient, love,” he chastised with a slight but teasing smile. “This night is supposed to last.”

She had not much of response other than to grip his knee, locking eyes with his golden ones. He stepped back and stripped of his extra gear. The shoulder straps came off, the pack that was normally stayed on his back, the tablet that was strapped to his bicep, all discarded. Though, he left his mask. _And_ his pants.

He tugged at the hem of her shirt, his tone permissive, “Go ahead, take it off.”

She made work of hurriedly slipping her shirt off while he left to go get what he had his mind set on. Unbeknownst to her, he hadn’t only been working on his many important projects during the time they hadn’t seen each other. He had whipped up something special just for that night.

His lab was a bit cluttered, but he found it, inspecting the object as he strode back over to his girl on the table. At first, he could tell she was unsure about whatever he was holding, but she realized as he clicked it on with his thumb and it started vibrate. He turned it back off and shook it teasingly, “I haven’t gotten a chance to try this thing out yet. Want to be my test subject?” he asked with a knowing smile, already taking his place between her thighs at the edge of the table. Her thighs parted to make space for him, and from there he caught a smell of her growing arousal. His pants were feeling tight. _What a dangerous scent._

He set the vibrator down next to her and fell into one last kiss, him beginning to feel what she was feeling, too. She wrapped her arms loosely around his neck and drew him in closer. One elbow still planted on the table, his hand wandered her torso, kneading the muscle and flesh, feeling her chest, until he left the kiss and rose up. God, he loved that needy expression.

The music wasn’t doing the mood justice so he turned off the radio and instead plugged in his phone to access his playlist. A smooth, deep, bass-heavy synthwave faded into the space.

Unable to hold out any longer, she lost her bra, and then her shorts, and was going for her undergarments when he abruptly grabbed her hand, saying _he’d_ be the one doing that.

He looked her right in the eye as he slowly slid her underwear down her legs, tossing them aside. He felt a twitch in his groin when his gaze darted from her face to her breasts to her vagina. The most sensitive parts of her. “You are _too_ beautiful,” he cooed, breaking his demeanor. She had a way of shaking him up without even trying.

His eyes fixed on her face, he brought his finger to her clit, running a stroke across it. Her face flushed warmly, eyes shut, but shifted as he continued to touch her. Donnie was softly domineering, so easy to get swept up into under his ministrations. His hands—his fingers—were nimble and played with the flesh delicately. He’d practiced and done over and treated her enough to the point where no matter where they were along the line, it always seemed like he knew what he was doing. Even when he didn’t.

He stimulated her himself until she was wanting more, wanting to ride that wave higher, and so without looking away, he took the vibrator and pressed it to her clit. The momentary look of relief on her face was delectable, to him. It was that reliance he craved.

“Do you think you can stall yourself and make this last, Dove?” he questioned. When she only whimpered a little as he turned up the intensity of the vibration, he gauged and answered for her with a hint of arrogance “That answers it, I suppose.”

Just seeing her squirm from his contraption made him feel a different kind of pride. It made him feel useful and manly. But even he couldn’t quite hold back for long, because as he built her climax higher and higher, he unbuttoned his pants to find his cock beginning to be coaxed out of its sheath. He crawled off of her, still holding the vibrator to her, and felt of the slit on his pelvis that was getting moist with natural lubrication. Knowing he could easily be tempted into cutting the night short by the activity down south, he lightly stroked along his cock, diverting his attention back to her. He went ahead and dropped his pants and kicked them away.

“How are we doing?” he muttered absentmindedly, pressing a palm down solidly on the table next to her neck. She gave him a lazy thumbs-up; her mind was far too preoccupied with what was going on in her body. He smiled, satisfied, and dipped his head down to the juncture between her neck and collarbone. There was a trail of kisses and faint bites left from there to her chest, where his lips connected with her nipple, licking and sucking the bud to his heart’s content, from one to the other with equal priority. If anything, Donnie was very attentive about being symmetrical when it came to that. His arm started to strain in the weird position in which he had to hold the vibrator while down on his elbow, and she mewled when he left her breasts, the vibration also ceasing. He let out a chuckle and planted a kiss on her lips, saying “Only readjusting, darling.”

She panted his name. It never failed to make him falter if only slightly. In a moment of weakness, his hand gripped the base of his cock, the odd head pulsing at the sudden touch. A low hiss left him.

Reaching for him, she was under the impression he was in need of some attention, too, but he stopped her. “This is _your_ time, Princess. We’ll get to that later on,” he told her, wrapping his hand around hers. He guided her back down onto the table.

Resuming, he ignored the growing tension in his groin as he slid his fingers along her inner thigh dreadfully slow, still operating the vibrator, but it was time to amp things up. She was dripping wet, he felt when he parted her folds, and as usual, the sight made him ache. Donnie was a visual guy, despite the irony of having _bad eyesight._ His thick finger played at the entrance of her pussy. _Soft, hot, wet, tight—_

He slipped his finger in. She’d been waiting for that for what had felt like ages. Donnie had a mental roadmap of her insides as well as the rest of her, and knew from trail and error and research just where to go. The spot that made her gasp and moan, that had her nails scratching his hairless head, that made her struggle to say _“Please don’t stop.”_ Unsurprisingly, he had her unravelling by then.

She never had to worry about Donnie stopping.

Hitting the perfect spot, he relished watching her back arch. She cried out and he quickly shushed her, “Quiet, remember?” He added yet another of his large fingers, admiring her slit from where he pumped in and out. Donnie liked getting his hands dirty, when it came to this.

His fingers alone filled her up enough for starters, so strong and rhythmic and simply divine how he could work with his hands. She moaned as he slammed the same spot, faster and deeper, the vibrator at her clit sending her mind into a white-canvas of pleasure. Her moans were silenced by the hand put on her mouth, mindful to be quiet. He let the vibrator fall away and felt her muscles clamp down on his fingers and spasm with a gush. There was that smell again—the one that drove him crazy. Being half animal, his sense of smell bested any human man’s by a landslide. And it touched the primitive parts of his brain and told him that he wanted to _fuck_ her.

The warmth between her legs was his own slice of heaven.

As she lay there panting, Donnie used her cool down to touch himself to the sight of her sweaty and weak. Such a picture made him feel powerful, in a way.

He was past painful erections, but there was a _very_ persistent ache in his groin, and he knew he was nearing his own time.

“Come on, Donnie,” she nudged him as she came down from her high, ready to take on the rest of what he had in mind. What she had in mind, honestly—he could finger like no other, and that vibrator he had made was just fantastic; but nothing could replace the feeling of _him_ inside her, his long cock throbbing. The peculiar tip bumping against her cervix here and there. She wasn’t fully aware of how much restraint he practiced at times, because had he wanted, he could plow her into the table and she wouldn’t walk right for days.

But he didn’t want that. He loved to go slow but solid, taking his time to bathe in the intoxicating scent of sex and pheromones that permeated his lab during and after they were finished. To _really_ feel every inch of her and how her deliciously pliant muscles would tighten around him as he fucked her.

Wordlessly, she pulled him into her and lay back down, settling with him between her legs at the edge of the desk. He hooked his hands under either knee of hers, dragging her a bit closer. “You have no idea how much I’ve thought about this the last month,” he rasped in her ear. “Every day.”

“Then let it out,” she responded. “Let me feel it.”

He laved at her breasts and neck as the head of his cock rubbed against her slit, lighting his entire lower half on fire. That part never got old. He continued rubbing and catching her clit until she planted her hands on his shoulders, looking up at him, needy. And finally, with a low groan, he sank into her. His cock was enveloped by the wet heat of her vagina, dipping in deeper and deeper until he knew he was hitting her limit. Her walls stretched around his girth, but there was no pain. Only the feeling of _fullness_ , being taken by him, and the way the inhuman quality of his cock made for an interesting experience. But just like his fingers, he knew how to use that well, too.

“I want you to feel how you make me feel,” she said breathily as he began to rock back and forth, arms looping around his thick neck. His forehead rested on her sternum.

“I’ll get mine, baby, this is for you,” he answered through a light hiss. He struggled to keep his voice steady with the sheer amount of pleasure bombarding him from all sides—her nails scraping the scales on the sensitive back of his neck, the perfection that was her pussy, the sounds she made for him. But he still saw his own pleasure as incidental. He loved giving. She was his little subject, willing to try with him and have fun together. What wasn’t to love?

Of course, the orgasms only _her_ body could give him was a plus. His core tightened with every thrust, the snapping of his hips becoming more forceful as his pleasure crested in hearing her moans and soft please for him.

His breath stuttered, his cock spurting, and a second later went limp against her. The utter relief he felt every time he got to do that was out of this world. Weeks of having to abstain with his girl due to responsibilities and coming in his hand was washed away, leaving him temporarily breathless as usual. He stayed there buried inside her for a few minutes, both panting. He held her torso in his strong arms and worked on reorganizing his thoughts.

“Thank you,” he breathed out, placing a soft kiss on her jaw. He slowly pulled out, letting his spent organ start its retreat back into its sheath.

She chuckled, “What are you thanking _me_ for? You’re the one who’s been doing for me this whole time.”

“Can’t just accept the thanks?” he asked, humored. “You know how I feel about it,” he smiled and raised up on his palms to see her face, “your pleasure’s my pleasure.”

“Yeah, maybe…but still doesn’t mean I can’t treat you, too,” she said with a cute quirk of her brow, sitting up. “You’ve got stamina and we’ve got time…let’s use it up, Donnie.”

She hopped off the desk and yanked him along with her, rolling his chair over to them. He let her push him into it and sat down heavily. Again, his groin stirred as she knelt between his legs, giving him a wink before her dainty fingers danced along his cloaca and set the flesh alight once more.

“I love you so much,” he praised her, his hands gripping the armrests. An involuntary purr-like sound resonated from his chest. 

A long night, indeed.


End file.
